“Like we’re pinning our father’s murder on him?”
“Fine. I get your point. However, if poor Jimmy is just feeling remorse, he picked the wrong day to confess his sins.”
Something I could agree with.
Once out of the car, I took a few seconds to glance toward the glow in the sky. I knew my men also hated the location, but I found it entertaining. What better area to require someone to tell the truth than in the oldest active and most haunted cemetery in the city. Between the moss covering the stone and concrete fixtures, the century-plus-old gnarled trees, and the addition of the bright full moon, there couldn’t be a more perfect setting in my mind.
“What’s the goal with having a discussion with Jimmy other than to find out why he stole the money? Or are you more interested in ripping someone apart to feed your anger?”
“Be careful, Jarvis. While I consider you my best friend and closest confidant, that doesn’t mean you’re allowed any more disrespect than others in my employ.”
“You’re definitely cut out to be the head honcho, but why don’t you save it for when you discover the person who killed your father. That kind of vehemence anyone could understand, but Jimmy is a two-bit player.”
“Because my gut tells me he knows something that will prove useful in our search for the killer. Before I start a war with the Russos, I need to discover what the hell we’re dealing with. Every detail.”
“I agree with that. Nothing else you’ve said today, but this you’re right about.”
If he believed pushing my buttons was in his best interest, he didn’t know how close to an edge I’d been pushed.
Jarvis’ insult would need to wait. We headed to the preordained spot that I’d used a few times over the years, the location hidden by groups of trees and located in an area where the tombs were rarely visited given the length of time the inhabitants had been deceased.
I could smell Jimmy’s fear before we moved toward the group of trees. There was no light needed, the shimmering illumination from the stream of moonlight the perfect added atmosphere for the macabre moment. Especially with the humidity creating a slight hint of fog. I couldn’t have asked for a more enhanced setting.
While I wasn’t known for my dramatics, I’d learned there were times brutal violence could only do so much on its own. Overthe years, ending a life had become passé. Or maybe I was just getting older.
Before we reached him, Jimmy was obviously able to smell the gris-gris. It was rancid. The contents with the wolfbane were also poisonous. I’d yet to determine if I simply wanted to shove the entire bag down his throat.
Jarvis was correct. I was more enraged than usual, which would mean I’d need to shorten my involvement, or the scene would be far too bloody, taking precious time to clean. With the criminal charges hanging over my head, prudence was in order. Another reason I’d chosen to use the element of the mind as pressure. What concerned me more than a lousy one hundred thousand was the timing. And the fact up to this point Jimmy had been a decent employee.
Why hadn’t he come to me if he’d needed money?
While everyone had a vice whether women, drugs, booze, or even gambling, Jimmy had always come to work on time, his production excellent, and had never so much as raised his voice to anyone. So why now? Maybe that’s why my CFO had come to me directly. You paid more attention to the anomalies.
In my mind, the answer was obvious. Someone had lured him into stealing from me. I wasn’t in the habit of giving out charity. I also was known for having a temper. That’s one reason there were rarely any issues within the syndicate. As Underboss, they’d both feared and respected me.
The two men holding him were none too happy. No one liked the cemetery. If I believed in ghosts, I’d say we had a group of them watching us. I adored the place. The vibes. The darkness. Thefeeling of being amongst the dead. At least I wasn’t desecrating the family tomb, the cemetery in a different part of town.
“Mr. Prince. I hoped you’d be here,” Jimmy started as I approached and immediately his gaze drifted to what I had in my hand. The darkness and ominous shadows couldn’t hide what I was holding or the implications.
“You did? I’m curious as to why.”
“So I could apologize properly.” I knew instantly there was more to the story than a Catholic man paying an act of contrition.
Besides, I was no priest. Maybe I should simply place a curse on him and be done.
Not that I knew any. But he didn’t know that.
However, that allowed me leeway as to whether I would kill him or simply use his punishment as a warning to others. With my takeover of the organization, everyone would be watching what I did. With my arrest, they’d believe I was out for blood, eager to paint it on every building and street.
As I twisted the net bag in my hand while moving closer, he recoiled.
In these instances, it was often best to remain quiet and allow the prisoner to feel the pressure, until they were unable to withhold information.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. He wasn’t attempting to fight for his life or break free from the brutes holding him. He’d known he’d face punishment. “I shouldn’t have taken the money.”
They were always sorry, the contrition completely foreign to me, but those who’d betrayed me felt the need. Maybe in hopes their souls would be redeemed. That wasn’t anything I needed to worry about.
“What exactly are you sorry for, Jimmy? That you disappointed me? Or that eventually you knew you got caught. Did your conscience suddenly awaken you in the middle of the night telling you that you’d been a very bad boy?” My voice dripped of contempt as I was already growing weary of whatever game was being played.
